Bryn’s eyebrows lifted. “I didn’t realize he was back to work.”
“He’s not. But he’s hoping to be soon.”
“Really? Susan said they weren’t sure he’d even walk again.”
“He was walking with a cane the other night. He has a pretty bad limp. … He’s obviously not ready to be climbing ladders yet, but he looked great.” She felt herself blush and wondered if she’d sounded a bit too enthusiastic.
But Bryn didn’t seem to notice. She sighed and closed her eyes. “I’m so glad. That’s good to hear.”
Jenna recognized the faraway look in her friend’s eyes, and she put a hand on Bryn’s arm. “Stop it right now, B. I see where your mind is taking you. You don’t have to carry this weight anymore. You’ve done everything you could possibly do to make things right.”
Tears seeped from beneath Bryn’s dark lashes, but she nodded and produced a crooked smile. “Thanks, Jen.” She pushed a plate of pizza crusts away from her and slid off the stool, brushing her palms together like she meant business. “All right, then. If we’re going to get you out of here before the new people move in, we’ve got work to do.”
Jenna was grateful for the change of subject, but while they worked, she rehearsed her phone call to Lucas.
How could Lucas’s mother say God was
good
after all they’d been through?
8
Tuesday, November 25
J
enna dialed the number from the Hanover Falls phonebook, surprised it was still listed as “Manuel Vermontez” more than a year after the fire.
The phone burred once. She blew out a breath and quickly placed the receiver on the hook. Her home phone was scheduled to be disconnected in a couple of days. Maybe it would be better to use her cell phone so Lucas would have her number in case he needed to call her back.
She flipped open her cell phone and punched in the number again, hoping it wouldn’t be his mother who answered.
“Vermontez residence. This is Emily.”
So much for hoping. “Um … hi, Mrs. Vermontez. This is Jenna Morgan. I’m—” She started to say she was Zach’s wife, then thought better of identifying herself that way. Surely Emily would remember her, even though they hadn’t seen each other since the funeral. “I don’t know if Lucas told you, but I ran into him the other night.”
“How nice to hear from you. I wasn’t sure if you were still in the Falls or not.”
Jenna loosened her grip on the phone and cleared off a place on the sofa. “Yes, I’m still here. For now anyway. Lucas may have told you that I sold my house.”
“Oh? I didn’t know. You say you saw him the other night? He didn’t mention it.”
Jenna plunged ahead. “We just ran into each other at the coffee shop. It was good to see him looking so well.”
“He’s doing wonderfully. Better than we ever expected after the first surgeries. God has been good.” Her voice wavered with emotion.
How could Lucas’s mother say God was
good
after all they’d been through? Jenna cleared her throat. “Does Lucas happen to be home? Could I speak to him?”
“Sure, hang on a minute. He’s here somewhere. It’s nice to talk to you. We’ve missed seeing you at Susan’s.”
Bryn had told her about the other wives—and Garrett—gathering at Susan Marlowe’s house in the months after the tragedy. The group had raised money to get the new shelter opened as a memorial to the fallen firefighters. Jenna had never taken part, despite repeated invitations from Susan. Back then she’d only wanted to put the tragedy behind her. More than that, she hadn’t wanted to risk being exposed as the fraud of a widow she was to Zach.
“Oh, here’s Lucas now. Luc, it’s for you.” Emily’s stage whisper carried over the line. “It’s Zach Morgan’s wife.”
Jenna cringed, but a moment later Lucas was on the line, his voice deep and matter-of-fact. “This is Luc.”
“Lucas? Hi … It’s Jenna Morgan.”
“Hey, Jenna.”
“I’m calling because I thought you might be able to help me with something.”
“Well, if I knew what the something was, I just might.” His voice held the teasing smile she remembered from the other night.
She relaxed a little. “This might sound strange, but I’m calling about a dog. A Labrador Retriever.” She explained how Sparky had ferreted out the gasoline at the shelter. “According to Bryn, he went straight for it like he’d been trained as an arson dog. It’s happened at least twice now.”
“Do you think he
is
trained?”
“No … Bryn said he was just a puppy when Charlie got him, and she—or her dad—has cared for Sparky since the fire. But she needs to find a home for him. She’s getting married in a few months, which is why I’m calling. Garrett already has a dog. …” She paused for a minute, and the silence on the line made her wonder if they’d been cut off.
But then he sighed. “I’m not sure … how you think I can help.”
She could almost see his thick black eyebrows knit in question.
“Zach mentioned once that the fire department had entertained the idea of working with accelerant detection dogs. I have no clue how that even works, but Bryn and I got to talking and we wondered if maybe someone there would be willing to take Sparky … maybe with the idea of training him. To be an arson dog …” she finished lamely.
An uncomfortable silence filled the line. Finally Lucas cleared his throat. “I’m not back to work yet. You knew that, right?”
“Yes. But that—that’s sort of why we thought of you. But maybe you don’t have time for something like this. I just thought since—”
He gave a low grunt. “Pop had dogs when we were kids, but they were hunting dogs. I wouldn’t know how to teach a dog to sit and stay, let alone train one for accelerant detection. I’m sure there’s a science to it.”
She cleared her throat. “Actually, Bryn says he’s already got the sit-and-stay stuff down. Her dad has been working with him a little.” She could almost hear him scrambling for a way to extricate himself from her proposal.
“I suppose I could talk to someone at the station. I’m not sure who would handle that, but I guess we’ll find out.”
“Oh, that would be great. Thanks, Lucas.” She tried not to sound as surprised as she felt, and before she lost her nerve added, “Would it be all right if I bring Sparky by sometime? So you can meet him?”
“I guess that’d be okay. When were you thinking?”
“What works best for you? I’m sure you have plans for Thanksgiving, and I’m moving this weekend anyway, but I could do it about anytime the following week. Oh, Bryn will be so relieved!”
“Hang on a minute—I haven’t agreed to anything yet.”
She inhaled sharply, then giggled. “I know. Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you nervous.”
He echoed her laughter. “You did have me a little worried there. Tell you what, let me talk to somebody at the station. I’ll see what I can do. And um … just so you know, I’m more of a cat person.”
“Really? I wouldn’t have guessed that.”
“’Fraid so. Cats rule, dogs drool.”
That made her laugh, even though she was disappointed that he didn’t seem too enthused about her and Bryn’s idea. She must be crazy to have agreed to transport that stupid dog to Luc’s, but she was excited at the prospect of seeing him again.
She’d forgotten what it felt like to just have fun with a guy. Or maybe she’d never known. In sixth grade she’d had a crush on a boy, but Zach was the only guy she’d ever dated. They’d been together all through her high school years, even after he graduated and left for Springfield to study fire science, and later when he moved back to the Falls to work.
“So, what do you think?” Lucas’s voice broke through her rambling thoughts.
“I’m sorry—what was that?”
“I wondered if you want to go for coffee again. After you get moved in, I mean. I could pick you up … Tuesday? Think you’ll be settled by then?”
If she didn’t know better, she’d think he was asking her for a date. But she smiled into the phone, happy he wanted to see her again. “I’d like that.”
“Good. I’ll give you a call. Hope your move goes okay.”
“Thanks.” She hung up, feeling a little bewildered. What had she gotten herself into?
Today, locking up the house for the last time … hit her harder than she’d expected.
9
Sunday, November 30
T
here! That’s done!” Bill Morgan secured the plastic tarp over the furniture Jenna was storing in the Morgans’ garage and brushed the dust off his hands. “You’re sure everything else goes inside?”
Jenna nodded and wiped her face on the sleeve of her T-shirt.
“Okay, then.” He pulled down the garage door behind them, and Jenna followed him around to the front of the Morgans’ house on the circle drive.
Clarissa waited on the front porch, holding the door open. The three of them had spent all day moving Jenna’s things out of her Brookside house and into Bill’s fourth garage bay.
It had taken longer than she’d anticipated, and despite the brisk November wind, she was sweaty, tired, and hungry.
And homesick.
She supposed one could say she’d moved up in the world. She had the most desirable address in the Falls now—Clairemont Hills. But
already she missed the Brookside house—and everything it had represented about how far she’d come.
Today, locking up the house for the last time—the house she and Zach had shared—had hit her harder than she’d expected. It didn’t help that Clarissa had kept up a teary running commentary about her “sweet Zachary” the entire time they were loading boxes.
Bill looked up at the gray skies and mumbled under his breath. All day he’d lamented having to move his precious restored Karmann Ghia to make room for Jenna’s things. The vintage car had gone in the bay where Bill’s woodworking shop was. She felt bad about that and had offered to rent a storage unit for her furniture. But she couldn’t afford the monthly fee and they knew it. Bill would have ended up having to pay that bill, too.
So many things to worry about. At least tonight she would keep busy setting up her new digs in the Morgan’s walk-out basement. She grabbed a suitcase from the back of Clarissa’s vehicle and headed toward the front door.
Bill shouldered a stack of boxes and started down the hallway that led to the bedrooms. Quincy followed, yapping and wagging his tail furiously.
“Wait, Bill. … Those go downstairs. To my room.”
He turned and looked past Jenna to his wife, confusion drawing his brows together.
Clarissa waved him on down the hall. “No, go on. You’re right.” She glanced at Jenna, looking sheepish. “I thought I mentioned … We’re going to put you in the guest room up here instead. We just got to thinking that if you took over the basement, it would leave us without any place to entertain, so …”
“Up here?” She sounded like a squawky parrot. But surely she’d misunderstood.
“This guest room is twice as big as either of the downstairs bedrooms. You’ll have a bath all to yourself. I’ve got everything cleaned out
of there. And of course, you’re more than welcome to spend time downstairs when we don’t have guests. But we just didn’t want to give up the media room and space to entertain down there.”
Jenna worked to unclench her jaw. She could not believe they would pull a bait-and-switch like this on her.
Numb, she followed Clarissa into the guest room.
Zach’s mother smoothed the bedspread, looking smug. “I think this will work just fine.” She went to open the drapes. “See what a lovely view you have?”
It was indeed a gorgeous view to a golden meadow behind the house, and beyond that the Morgans’ wooded acreage. But Jenna saw it through a haze of unshed tears. Zach’s parents didn’t owe her anything, and she was grateful for their financial help and for their offer of a place to live. But this was not an option. The guest room was directly across the hall from the master suite. She would have no privacy whatsoever. And neither would they. To get downstairs, she’d have to tromp through the main rooms of the house. And now, instead of having her own little suite, she would be sharing the family room with Bill and Clarissa.
This was not what she’d agreed to! The thought made her feel like a spoiled brat, and maybe she was, but she felt betrayed, too.
Bill brought another load of boxes in, and Jenna waited for him to leave before she turned to Clarissa. “I wish you’d mentioned this before.” She would be a guest in their home—company. And how many times had she heard Clarissa say that fish—and company—start to stink after three days?
“We didn’t really think about it until a couple days ago,” Clarissa said, looking apologetic. “But I thought I’d mentioned it.”
“No, Clarissa, you didn’t mention it.” She closed her eyes and forced down the roiling anger. Jenna had always known Clarissa wasn’t above a little white lie, but—as far as she knew—this was the first time she’d been on the receiving end of one. “The only thing we ever talked about was me moving in downstairs.”
“Well, I’m sorry. But we realized that just wasn’t going to work for us. The guest room should suit just fine.”
Jenna forced a smile and took a step forward, hoping Clarissa would take the hint that she was ready to be alone.
Bill came to her rescue, bringing in the last of her clothes on hangers. He deposited them in the guest room closet and wiped his hands on his jeans. “That’s everything.” He put his hands on his wife’s shoulders and turned her toward the door. “Now let’s leave this girl alone so she can get settled in.”
“Come on, Quincy.” Clarissa scooped the dog into her arms and took him out.
Jenna shut the door behind them and plopped onto the queen-size bed. She loved Zach’s parents, but this was
not
going to work. She had to find a place of her own, had to get a job and get out of here.
She began to unpack boxes, but her heart wasn’t in it. Besides, there wasn’t room for half of this stuff in the guest room, even though it was large as bedrooms went.
She riffled through the junk piled on the floor in search of her cell phone. When she finally located it, she dialed Bryn’s number. It went straight to voice mail, and Jenna hung up without leaving a message.